


Dropping

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [189]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-14 19:58:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14143410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Sam Worthington/Ryan Kwanten storyline in the BDSM RPS RPGCitadel.





	Dropping

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Sam Worthington/Ryan Kwanten storyline in the BDSM RPS RPG [Citadel](http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read).

Sam wakes to the sound of his watch beeping away, one arm gone numb under Ryan and his hip aching something fierce. He shifts carefully, managing to use his teeth to turn the damn alarm off then sighs, settling back, taking stock. Christ. It's 5 am and they're still in the fucking barn, Ryan dead to the world. There'd been no question of returning to the house the night before and luckily the temperature's still decent enough it wasn't an issue. But Jesus fuck, he's a little old for sleeping on the ground with nothing under him but a sleeping bag and some fucking hay. Still... there's no question it was an amazing scene and Sam wouldn't change a damn thing about it even if he could. "Hey, gorgeous," he murmurs, shifting onto his side again and pressing close to his lover. "Wakey-wakey..."

Ryan mumbles in his sleep and turns over to snuggle in against Sam's chest. He feels... itchy, god. Which is just weird enough to have him dragging his eyes open. "Hey," he whispers, just managing to focus on Sam's face. Then he winces, lifting his head to squint at the straw. "What the fuck? Is it morning?"

"Not quite. Five," Sam says, kissing the top of Ryan's head and slowly shifting his still-numb arm out from underneath his lover, "but I need to change, grab a shower before I head in."

"Oh. Okay." Ryan sits up enough to brace on his elbow and he instantly feels chilled in the absence of Sam's body heat, even despite the down-filled sleeping bag. "Um." He chews on his bottom lip. "Want me to cook you breakfast?" God, his thoughts are sluggish. Ordinarily he wouldn't even ask; of course, ordinarily he's up before his sir.

Sam smiles, leaning in and kissing Ryan softly on the mouth. "No, it's okay. I'll grab something on the way in," he says. "And we can leave this stuff here but we should probably grab our clothes."

"Okay." After a moment, Ryan even manages to loose his hold on Sam. "I feel weird," he confesses in a whisper as he gets to his feet. He feels... raw, damn, and he casts his thoughts back to last night, trying to determine if they did anything really out of the ordinary. But no, he doesn't think that they did. Sam went a bit harder on him than usual, sure, but definitely not the hardest he's ever gone. And definitely not harder than Ryan can take. Ducking his head, he gathers up their clothing from where it's carelessly strewn throughout the barn.

"Weird how?" Sam asks, taking their clothes from Ryan and wrapping a blanket around their shoulders and his arm around his lover's waist as they slowly make their way up to the house.

"Like... fuzzy, I guess. Foggy. I guess." For starters, Ryan doesn't normally have such trouble expressing himself. But attempting to think right now feels like trying to swim through molasses. His muscles ache, but it's a familiar burn, from being pushed to his physical limits. He walks at Sam's side and tries to make sure he's not just shambling and hanging on his lover for support. "Can I...?" he begins tentatively, then lets the question trail off unasked. "What should I cook you for dinner?"

"Why don't you take it easy today and we'll go out tonight," Sam suggests even though it's really an order.

"Oh. Okay." Ryan hunches into himself, then steps ahead on the path to open the front door for Sam. _All day?_ By himself? It makes him fucking uneasy.

"You want to come shower with me?" Sam asks, wrapping the blanket around Ryan once they're inside and pulling him close for another kiss.

"Mm-hmm." Ryan nods, seizing the opportunity to rub his cheek against Sam's shoulder before he heads upstairs to start the shower heating.

Sam tosses their clothes in the hamper and follows Ryan into the bathroom. "How's your back?" he asks, stepping into the shower behind his lover. "Do you want to take anything?"

Ryan hisses softly when the hot water strikes his welts. Then he shrugs. "Some Motrin, maybe," he answers. "My shoulders are killing me." He's already considering skipping his morning yoga, and that's damn near unheard of. He turns, shifting to make room for his lover under the spray, and slips his arms around him, resting his head against Sam's shoulder.

Sam holds Ryan close, just breathing him in. His warmth, his scent. Finally he reaches for the soap. "Let me wash you," he murmurs, mindful of the fucking clock ticking away no matter how much he wants to just stay here, like this, forever.

Agreeing wordlessly, Ryan lifts his arms and lets Sam take care of him. He still feels so drowsy, wants nothing more than to just fall back into bed with his lover and burrow into Sam. 

Sam makes quick work of washing them both, taking note while he does of Ryan's uncharacteristic quietness. He's used to this right after a scene, but they've slept and Ryan's walking around, talking some. But it's when Ryan lets him dry him without a word of protest that Sam really gets concerned. "What are you going to do today?" he asks, taking Ryan's hand and leading him back into the bedroom.

"Um. I don't know." Ryan shrugs, furtively watching his sir. "Sleep, maybe? I... I don't feel so great." He's beginning to feel pretty fucking panicked at the thought of Sam leaving and being gone all day, actually. But there's no way he can tell his lover that.

"Yeah?" Sam checks Ryan's temperature with a hand to his forehead. "Sick sick or just not so great?"

Immediately Ryan moves closer, into Sam's touch, and only barely holds back from wrapping himself around his lover. "Nah, I'm fine," he says softly, although it's not really true. "Just tired."

"You're sure?" Sam gives Ryan a smile. "You could come into work with me if you want?" he offers, thinking he'd prefer to keep an eye on his lover.

"Really?" Ryan's face lights up and he meets Sam's eyes directly for almost the first time all morning. "Can I?"

"Yeah, of course you can," Sam says, pulling Ryan in close and kissing him softly. "You can come in with me anytime you want. I love having you there with me." He hopes Ryan knows that but maybe he hasn't actually outright said it before.

"Okay. I just, um." Ryan smoothes his hand down Sam's arm. "I just... I don't want to be a distraction while you're working." But he's beginning to realize what he should have figured out twenty minutes ago: if he's too far away from Sam today, he might just freak the hell out.

It's been a long time since Ryan's had subdrop as bad as this.

"You're not a distraction," Sam says, hugging Ryan again. "You're my boy and if I left you at home, feeling like this, that would _really_ interfere with my concentration."

"Yes, Sir," Ryan whispers, melting with relief against his lover's body. His lover, who understands him so completely. "I'll put some clothes on."

///

"You sure you want to stay in here?" Sam asks, looking around the trailer. "You're welcome to come sit and watch."

"Um." Ryan looks longingly out at the set, but then shakes his head. "I can't pretend today," he says softly. "I'll give us away for sure. But I'll stay here, and I can be near you. And then you'll come to me when you can." His words sound confident, but the tone of his voice is wistfully hopeful.

"Okay." Sam nods, watching Ryan. "You need anything before I go?"

"For you to chain me to your bed?" Ryan says, trying to keep it light, like it's really a joke. Which it's really not.

Sam takes a step back into the trailer. He takes a long look at Ryan, gauging his boy's seriousness then says, "You sure you want the bed? I could just cuff your hands in front of you. That way you could move around a bit if you need to. Get something more to eat."

"Please?" Ryan was trying so hard to not ask anything of Sam, keeping his needs to himself when his lover has to leave and go work. But god, he feels so fucking alone, and still so damn adrift. He holds his hands out in front of him, watching Sam with big eyes.

"Yeah, of course," Sam says, opening up the small wall safe that came with the trailer. He pulls out the cuffs and fastens them around Ryan's wrists, tightly enough to make him feel held, secure, but not tight enough that he's going to leave any real marks or be uncomfortable. "There you go," he murmurs, leaning in to brush his lips over the base of each wrist. "Mine."

Shit. It's surely a measure of how shaky Ryan feels - and _only_ that feeling - that Ryan feels tears welling up in his eyes. "Thank you," he whispers, laying his head on Sam's shoulder and pressing close. "Thank you, Sir. I need you."

"I know you do," Sam murmurs, hugging Ryan tight, his hands between them. He smiles. "You're my good boy and I'll be back before you know it to check on you. Okay?"

"Yes, Sir." The smile on Ryan's lips is tentative, but genuine, and he gives his sir a nod when he steps back. "I'll be here."

///

After Sam leaves, Ryan spends a bit of time aimlessly wandering through the trailer. There's really not that much of it, and anyway he's spent time in here before, but he doesn't feel each minute tick by today like he usually does. He still feels like he's half-dreaming. When he opens the narrow closet he finds one of Sam's sweatshirts carelessly tossed inside, and he picks it up with his cuffed hands, lifting the soft fabric to his face. It smells like his lover, and Ryan smiles, instantly comforted. He cuddles the shirt against him and heads to the back of the trailer to lie down on Sam's bed, curling up with his lover's scent.

It's roughly an hour and a half before Sam gets enough of a break to be able to go back and check on Ryan. He lets himself into his trailer as quietly as he can and locks the door behind him, heading straight for the back, where he finds Ryan asleep, curled up with his fucking sweatshirt of all things. He slips off his shoes and crawls onto the bed, settling in behind his lover. Wraps his arm around Ryan's waist and nuzzles the nape of his neck, snuggling in close as he breathes him in.

Startled out of a dream, Ryan stiffens immediately, his eyes flying open and focusing on the wall. Then he relaxes, settling deeper into Sam's embrace. "Hey," he whispers, letting his eyes slip shut again. "Are you all done?"

"Nope. It's not even lunchtime yet," Sam murmurs, pulling Ryan in as close as he can.

"Oh. Okay." Really, Ryan couldn't care less; Sam is here, warm and wrapped around him. The rest of the world doesn't matter right now. "Are things good out there?" he asks, trailing his fingers along his lover's arm.

"Yeah. Rolling along," Sam says, shifting just a little as his cock starts to react to the warmth of his lover's body even through their clothes.

"Do you need to get back right away?" Ryan drops his hand lower to stroke over Sam's thigh.

"Nope." Sam shakes his head, pressing closer again, unable to resist for long. "But you're supposed to be taking it easy today," he says with a smile.

"I am?" The angle is too awkward to keep touching Sam the way he wants to, so Ryan shifts, the cuffs clinking, and turns in the circle of Sam's arms. Ahhh, much better. "Hey," he says softly, beginning to rub Sam's cock through his pants. "Tell me again about how easy I am today."

"You're supposed to be _taking_ it easy," Sam says but it's not much of a protest, his body responding eagerly to Ryan's touch.

"Oh, all right. You can do all the work," Ryan promises, licking over Sam's throat.

Sam groans. Christ. Like he ever had any hope of behaving. "On your back," he orders.

"Yes, Sir." There's no fucking way Ryan can hide the grin on his face -- it's just way too damn smug and delighted. He rolls to his back, cuffed wrists resting demurely on his belly, and watches his lover.

"Good boy," Sam says, kneeling up. He unzips his jeans and frees his aching cock, moving up the bed until he can throw one leg over Ryan, straddling his chest, the already wet tip pressed to his boy's lips.

Ryan groans and flickers his tongue over the tip of Sam's cock, stealing that bead of precome for himself and moaning like it burns him. Then he parts his lips, lifting his head and sucking Sam's cock inside, slowly working the hard flesh with both lips and tongue, taking him deeper until he can swallow around the crown.

"Ohfuck, yeah," Sam breathes, bracing one hand against the back wall of his trailer as he pushes deeper, feeling Ryan's nose press tight against his groin.

Ryan whimpers around his mouthful and sucks harder. He lifts his hands between Sam's thighs and gently rubs the sensitive area behind his balls, playing with the heavy sac.

Mindful of the clock running down, Sam groans, dropping his head back and fucking Ryan's throat, his boy's touches sending him hurtling towards the edge.

Gasping for a breath, Ryan then arches beneath his lover, tilting his head back to lengthen his throat. And he sneaks one finger up to press against Sam's tight hole.

That's it. Sam gasps, his hips hitching, body freezing, his cock spurting hard and heavy, come flooding Ryan's throat.

Ryan gags and whimpers, tries to swallow. He feels Sam's seed leaking out of the corners of his mouth but is powerless to do anything about it. Sam's weight pins him as surely as if he were bound to the bed. And fuck it's wonderful, keeping him so damn warm and secure.

"Good boy," Sam pants, backing down Ryan's body until he can stretch himself out over his lover, kiss him softly, tasting himself. "I love you so much."

Burying a soft whimper in Sam's mouth, Ryan kisses him back. "Thank you, Sir," he whispers, oddly feeling much more settled now than he has all morning. "You're so good to me."

"Yeah?" Sam grins. "I'm not sure that was exactly taking it easy on you," he murmurs.

"If you actually ever did that, then I'd worry," Ryan assures him. He shifts position slightly so that his arms aren't being crushed. "I might think that my incredible body was losing its power over you."

Sam snorts, eyes sparkling. "Like that's ever gonna happen," he says, kissing Ryan again when someone knocks at the door and calls that he's needed in ten. "Shit." He smiles down at Ryan. "You need anything before I go?"

Ryan shrugs a little. "A drink of water? And another kiss."

Sam shifts to his knees and springs off the bed, hunting down a bottle of water and coming back with a straw as well. "Here you go," he says, taking a seat beside Ryan. He angles the straw for him, even though Ryan could probably do it himself. "Want me to bring you some lunch next time?" he asks, glancing at his watch, figuring that should be about right.

"Yeah. You'll be able to come eat with me?" Ryan asks, snuggling in under Sam's arm. Ordinarily he wouldn't bother to ask, but today he needs the reassurance.

Sam nods, brushing a strand of hair back from Ryan's face. "Yeah. I'll come have lunch with you," he says. "Do you still want the cuffs on until then?"

Ryan takes stock, then nods. "Yes, please, Sir," he whispers. "And, can we maybe order in tonight?"

Sam smiles, leaning in to kiss Ryan. "Anything you want," he promises.


End file.
